


Free-Falling Towards The Shadows

by DiamondCaviar



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comic Spoilers, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 00:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8307289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondCaviar/pseuds/DiamondCaviar
Summary: The aftermath of the events that occur at the top of Old Wayne Tower.Spoilers for Detective Comics #940.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about this ever since Tec 940 dropped, but I only got around to finishing this WIP just now. Sorry if this idea has already been done in the meantime!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Tim's first spoken line is lifted from the comic, and the obvious "I don't own these characters. Please don't sue me, DC."

Wearing the mask and cape means acknowledging death as just another occupational hazard. Tim knows that. He knows that death follows him like the shadows that Gotham casts, and if he's clever enough, he can escape those shadows by keeping his feet off the ground for as long as possible.

Like a bird, he'll fly to escape death, to escape the shadows that reach for him as he descends.

This free-fall takes him to the center of a drone attack. His cleverness marks him as the only target for the entire drone fleet, and he couldn't be prouder of himself. No one else seems to agree, but that's all right; either way, he's convinced he's made the right choice.

The drones twinkle in the sky like stars, and Tim muses silently to himself—

_Heh, the one time that Gotham finally has a decent night sky is the night I die._

It's morbid humor that he doesn't really find funny, and considering his current situation, there's not much to laugh about anyway. But he grins as he takes down drone after drone, gritting his teeth as his body takes on the assault.

The stars in the sky don't seem to die out. They keep multiplying, and Tim's jaw is so swollen that he can barely smile properly. But he tries anyway. Everything hurts, and he's bleeding in more places than he can count, but he doesn't stop fighting. There are more stars— _drones_ , they're _drones—_ and they pause for a moment, just long enough for him to say goodbye to everyone.

And the sky lights up.

_So this is what death feels like._

The pain lingers for longer than he expects—Tim assumes that once he dies, he's not supposed to feel anything else. But he's still _feeling_ , and it's definitely not pleasant. Oh well, a hero's death is still a hero's death. It comes with the territory.

That is until he's greeted by a man in a hood, telling him he's dead, but only to everyone he knows.

He doesn't believe it. His body is still aching, he still has blood dripping from his nose, and he doesn't believe for a moment that he won't be finding his way back anytime soon.

“Just you wait,” Tim repeats as the hooded figure disappears in another veil of light. He slams a fist against the door of his cell, leaning close enough against it that his blood smudges against the glass and his breath mists.

He closes his eyes and steadies his breathing, steadies his body in every way he can think of, because everything still hurts and he needs to figure out how to communicate with the Bat family from wherever he is—

“Tim?”

In both life and death, that voice is the last thing Tim expects hearing.

He looks up, and in the shadows of a nearby cell, he can make out a red Superman shield. But it's not _really_ a Superman shield. No, against the blackness—against these _shadows_ —it represents Superboy.

It's Superboy.

It's the crest for the House of El.

It's _hope_.

“Kon,” Tim breathes out against the glass, and he feels the relief welling up in him as he shadow becomes more and more discernible. There's no mistaking it. “ _Kon_ , it's actually you. How the hell did you end up here?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” Kon exhales a laugh, and they just stare at each other through the tempered glass, sharing the same thoughts and wondering if _this_ will be their chance to get out. “What happened to you? You look like a mess.”

“It's a long story, but-”

There's another flash of brilliant white light, and Tim feels gentle static prickling at his fingertips.

“What do you think you're doing?! When I get out of here, I'm gonna show you a thing or-”

“Bart?” Tim calls to the opposite cell, and the turbulent lightning storm crackling inside of it curtails into a few bolts that crawl up the side of the cell's door as Bart presses his forehead against the glass.

“ _Tim_? What happened to you?” He shoves his cowl off and stares at him through the dark. “And is that _Conner_ over there? Whoa, what's going on here?”

“You tell us,” Kon shrugs, and the two begin discussing what exactly was happening to them before they were teleported there.

Tim is listening, but he's sort of... _not_. He can't help but just _watch_ Kon when he speaks—the way the corner of his lips turn downward when he hears something that he doesn't like, the way his shoulders straighten out when he hears something he _does_ like, and the way he glances in Tim's direction and just smiles like an old friend.

White light fills the room once again, and when they all realize who else has joined them, Bart is the first person to react.

“Is that you, Cassie? Small world!”

“And getting smaller,” Kon notes, and he looks back at Tim. “Are you already hatching some sort of plan to get us all out of here, _Robin_?”

Bart laughs. “You thought he was _planning_? To me, it looked like he was just ogling at you this whole time.”

“Does anyone know what's going on?” Cassie frowns. “Or are we just gonna be stuck here until that hooded guy decides what to do with us?”

Tim finally wrenches himself out of his reverie, because he's definitely been putting together _something_ , and to Bart's credit, he's sort of right—it is a little harder to think with Kon there. Of course, that's something he's keeping to himself.

The shadows have caught up to him, but he's not alone.

“I might have something.”


End file.
